


Been to hell and come out singing

by Mor-Mor (Not_The_Gods_Favorite)



Category: Hawkeye (Comics), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bucky Barnes Cooks, Caring, Clint Barton & Natasha Romanov Friendship, Clint Barton Feels, Deaf Clint Barton, Domestic Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Minor Injuries, Natasha Romanov Is a Good Bro, Not Canon Compliant, POV Clint Barton, Pre-Slash, Protective Bucky Barnes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-25 20:51:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20730575
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_The_Gods_Favorite/pseuds/Mor-Mor
Summary: Clint is back from a mission and he's patching himself up, waiting for someone to burst through the door of his safe house to tell him how reckless he was, he wasn't expecting what he gets instead.ORWere Clint is a disaster and Bucky cares.





	Been to hell and come out singing

Clint kept his eyes on the small and dusty mirror in the equally small and dusty bathroom. He was trying to make a quick work of the cuts on his face and arms before the front door opened again, slammed shut and there were angry voices on his direction for how reckless he had been.

He was just finishing to wrap a cut on his left arm when the door opened and closed. He sighed, running a hand through his hair and wincing at some of the spots that made his scalp hurt. Fuck glass ceilings. Clint was bracing himself for some curses in Russian spat at him as Natasha circled him, taking in every injury littering the assassin's body.

He was surprised when Bucky of all people leaned against the doorframe, knocking the open door.

"Hey there" he mutters

"Hey there" Clint echoes and reluctantly goes back to clean some of the smaller scrapes, trying to forget the fact that he was only wearing underwear, opposed to Bucky's full tac gear.

"What happened to you? you always look like you tried to fight a wall, but this time looks like the wall had knives" he pulls away from the doorframe and runs his fingers through Clint's bloody hair, giving him an apologetic look when he hears a wince "I'll clean here" he holds out his flesh hand for the cotton ball, and moves carefully through the cuts on his head, spotting them.

He hands it reluctantly, but he knows he won't be able to reach, not if his ribs hurt the way they do, so Clint sits on the edge of the bathtub, hissing when the antiseptic stings, but stays put, letting Bucky take care of it. He knows better than to bitch around when he's getting taken care of without a scolding because of his careless behavior. Clint knew, and probably Bucky too at this point that Nat would've taken care of some of the wounds, but she would have been talking to him sternly, once again calling him out on how dumb he'd being.

Clint would let the words sink in, maybe think about it in his free time, and they would be forgotten as soon as the next mission rolled up and he's out of the quinjet and running into position. He knows he's reckless, sometimes he does know that jumping out of a building isn't the best choice, but when he's out there on a mission, he can't bring himself to care about his own safety, choosing to protect his teammates.

He goes to pick another cotton ball but Bucky beats him to it, slapping his hand away gently. Clint looks up to him, frowning when Bucky crouches in front of him, dabbing to the small cuts on his abdomen.

"Turn around I wanna check your back for some, yeah?" He's using a voice Clint has only see him use the few times that Steve gets badly injured or did something particularly stupid, it's that private voice that he uses when Clint is high on pain meds on the debriefing table of the quinjet, right after Natasha went to make sure they didn't crash. It feels like he's been allowed on a secret club.

He does as he's told, his face scrunching up a bit as pain flares on his side when he turns around, bare feet inside the bathtub and he's glad he didn't put his socks on or he would have regretted it. The shower still has pools from when Clint took the quickest shower without soap to take some of the cement dust off his body. Bucky is quick with the few cuts in his back and then he's checking how well put the other bandages are, giving a hum of approval and holding a hand out to help Clint out of the tub.

"Thanks, man" he grunts as his probably sprained ankle gets more weight than he planned. On his way out of the bathroom he grabs the bandages and moves slow but safe over to his bed, sitting in a corner and pulling his leg up with another grunt to wrap his ankle.

"Give it to me, lay back" Bucky says, almost like an order, taking the bandage out of his hands and gently pushing him against the mattress. Clint is going to complain but something in Bucky's eyes makes him stop.

He lets him do the wrapping of the ankle, dozing off slightly, thinking that Nat would kick his ass if he knew that he was letting Barnes take care of him and this easily, after all of those years of constant struggle with her. He could blame the commanding undertone of _Sergeant_ James Barnes, but after all those years Clint knew that Natasha Romanov would be more commanding that any general.

He felt a tap on his calf and his eyes shot open, trying to sit up, cursing at himself as his ribs make it impossible for him to do so. Bucky's eyes were filled with something that Clint knew to be concern. Then he's pushing him back against the mattress, walking outside of the room. Clint thinks that's the last he's gonna see of him for today and until next mission maybe, but it's not even five minutes before he's back, carrying a bottle of pills.

The archer smiles up at him, already feeling his muscles relax upon the thought of painkillers, apparently the good kind because the bottle looked absolutely off brand and Bucky only pulled out one pill before helping Clint up against the pillows. As soon as he swallowed the single pill, Bucky put the bottle in his pocket, out of Clint's reach, leaving the water glass on the night table.

"No more painkillers for you until you wake up, if I give you more now, you'll miss breakfast" he grumbles out, voice still holding the soft edge of before "I'll double check everything is safe around here.... and then I'll try not to stay up all night, I know that all of you hate when someone doesn't take care of themselves, so I'll try my best" he gives Clint a crooked smile, putting a blanket on top of him before exiting the room.

Clint sighed, getting as comfortable as possible, trying not to put much of his weight on his bruised ribs. He can hear Bucky moving around the safe house, checking locks and windows, but soon enough he's drifting off into a dreamless sleep. Morning came, and he could swear he only woke up because of the smell of coffee filling the house. He tried to sit up, a pained groan cutting throat the silence of the place as he scooted closer to the edge.

Soon enough Bucky was in the doorframe, holding the bottle of meds "come have breakfast and I'll give you another one, we're going back to the compound in the afternoon, I already called Nat and the jet will be at the clearing at six" he declares before pushing away from the wall and walking back to the kitchen.

Clint notices he's not wearing his tac gear so he guesses that he's wearing some of the dusty clothes that he keeps around in the safe house. He feels exceptionally cold and he remembers that he's only wearing underwear, totally not appropriate for breakfast with someone else. He could submit his coffee to seeing him naked, but Bucky didn't deserve that. So he made his way over the closet and pulled a shirt and some basketball shorts he doesn't remember buying.

After the whole ten minutes it took him to get in the clothes, he stumbled into the kitchen, climbing on a stool and taking a bite of a toast, humming softly. He can't even remember the last time he ate something. But what he does remember is that this particular safe house, because of the very small use, is not stacked, the only things in the pantry being coffee and canned food, maybe instant ramen, and very unlikely, but actual noodles and tomato sauce.

It's the easy to make stuff he keeps around the houses he's hiding on, it's not exactly a weekend on the beach, and it's more likely that he's beaten to a pulp if he's on a safe house, so he won't put much effort in food. Which means that Bucky went out, walked the few miles that separated the tiny cottage from the nearest store and bought supplies.

"I did go out, I wasn't about to feed you past due noodles and tomato sauce for breakfast" Bucky says as he pours some coffee for Clint, smirking at the surprised frown "you did ask that out loud" he pauses "when you're done with that toast take a painkiller, only one, I don't want you falling asleep on me, you do need rest but I need you awake because in case you didn't notice it's around noon and in a while I'll be starting lunch. We've almost the right time to be ready for the quinjet and definitely dragging out your gear plus mine, plus your sleeping ass would be a challenge, even with the serum"

Clint can only nod, and now that his reunion with Nat has a time, he starts a countdown of how his ass will be kicked for this, unless he lies and convinces Bucky to say that it was a nightmare to try to make him do stuff. That could work, yeah, that is if Bucky didn't already mentioned to Natasha that he had cleaned some of Clint's wounds.

"Did you tell Nat that you helped me with the stuff?" He grumbles behind a sip of his coffee "she'll kick my ass if she knows I made it too easy for you to help me"

"I didn't mention it, but she did ask me to try to help you because you were a 'stubborn _придурок_ that doesn't know when to ask for help' but that was after I had helped you" he pauses, frowning at Clint "I can't understand how you've survived all those times you were on your own, if what I've managed to know of you is true... how did you go through basically stitching yourself up while almost _dying_?"

The look of concern on his face is way too notorious for a man who has passed the worst part of the last 50 years looking emotionless. Clint has to look down as he shrugs. Picking his toast and taking a bite.

"To be honest I don't know how I've been to hell and come out singing, this" he pauses to gesture at himself "is nothing, I've been through far worse and ... yeah on my own, it's been like this since I started"

Bucky's worried face doesn't drop, but increases at his words. Clint notices that his hands are on fists. He's slightly worried, instincts kicking in, because even if he's a few inches taller than Bucky, he's definitely in better shape than he is and a hand on hand combat would end on Clint absolutely needing a doctor if not a funerary service. But he pushes the thought aside, Bucky is not gonna hurt him.

"You shouldn't have to go through that on your own, I can heal, but you? You're just human and you put yourself in so much danger as if you were the one that took Steve's serum" he sighs "I know that your line of work... our line of work doesn't always provide a partner, but damn... you could always get someone you trust by your side"

"Most of the people I trust I wouldn't put into the line of collateral damage, if I bring someone into this, they might get hurt as well, and that's something I wouldn't forgive myself for" he answers

The look on Bucky's eyes showed that he knows what Clint means. The slow understanding nod has both of them smiling bitterly. Bucky looks away for a bit, drinking his own coffee "I understand, but you really shouldn't have to go through that alone, Clint"

The archer shrugs and finishes his coffee as he takes the painkiller that Bucky had laid out for him. They stayed in silence for a bit. And Clint didn't leave his spot while Bucky cleans the things they used for breakfast, and he wasn't planning on moving after that either, but Bucky was having none of it. He scooped Clint up as if he were at least a hundred pounds lighter.

"How are you carrying me so _easily_? I'm fricking 230 pounds" he grumbles, holding onto Bucky begrudgingly as he didn't want to fall.

"_I_ weight 260 pounds, Clint, and the metal arm does has its perks" he grins at him, placing him on the couch and throwing the remote of the TV at him who easily catches it "why dontcha watch somethin while I take care of lunch and packing so we can get out of here fast after we eat, yeah?" He keeps the grin and then he's turning around and going to the kitchen, starting up something in the stove as he goes back to Clint's room, most likely to pick all of the weapons he dropped to the floor in his haze to get to the bathroom.

Clint only nods, turning the tv on and staring at some police show that was on. He didn't bother to change the channel when he became uninterested, gaze fixed on the wall as he pondered the reasons Bucky could have to be so caring with him. If he was the one calling Natasha it wasn't likely that she was the one who had sent Bucky after him. No one else in the team was aware of this particular mission. Hell, not even Bucky was supposed to know... that meant that Clint had not been as careful as he should have been.

So, Bucky had spied him to the point of knowing about this mission, and followed him into it, ready to take part on it if the tac gear was anything to go by, and now he was making lunch in the shitty kitchen of Clint's shitty safe house. It smelled good, something with onions and meat. It wasn't surprising that Bucky knew how to cook, considering what Clint had read on both history books and Russian folder with information about The Winter Soldier and his past life.

He didn't notice that he had dozed off until Bucky was shaking his shoulder. Fuck, he was a trained assassin, he wasn't supposed to fall asleep like that. Clint looked up at Bucky and Oh would you look at those eyes ... suddenly he felt a lot better and the spike of anxiety that had gone up his back disappeared as he stared into those pretty eyes.

"Lunch is ready in case you wanna go to the counter to eat" he gestures behind his back, standing up straight and holding out a hand for Clint to take.

He knows he needs help to stand so he takes it, and let's James guide him to the kitchen, a plate of steak, rice and fries. It's simple, but his mouth is already watering at the smell.

"Geez, Buck... this looks amazing" he mumbles as he sits down, grabbing a fry of his plate and eating it. He picks the cutlery and cuts a piece of meat as Bucky takes a seat in front of him.

"Thank you, Clint" he says, voice almost shy and cheeks tinted. He starts to eat.

They eat in silence, with small bouts of conversation in between. And Clint keeps praising the food but Bucky is not taking it, shaking his head and saying _'it's nothing'_. By the time their plates are empty he's happy to say he managed to make Bucky smile proudly of himself and his cooking abilities. A small, reserved smile, but a smile nonetheless. This was a success.

They wash the plates -Bucky finally lets him help with something- and Clint is on drying duty, rubbing a kitchen towel over the plates and putting them away.

"Can I at least help you pack?" He asks for the fifth time, getting a laugh from Bucky as they enter the room.

Bucky had put all of the twelve knives and daggers Clint had hidden all over his tac gear, the biggest knife was on its holster and all of his remaining arrows were on the quiver, next to the folded bow, both of them in their respective case.

Clint checked over the case, closing it with a satisfied sigh and went over to the knives to decide where to put them. Then he realized he had no clothes to change to, because he had gotten to the mission point by jumping off a quinjet, tac gear ready. It had been planned as a get in get out mission, but things turned sour and he ended up caught in a fight and then knocked out of the top of a building when the warehouse exploded. Lucky for him, he didn't fall to his death, but into the next building's roof, managing to get some scraps and a sprained ankle in addition to his already battered body. God bless terraced houses. When he finally was out, his clothes were a bit ripped, so he trashed them as soon as he got into the house.

When Bucky walked back in the room he was wearing his tac gear, the clothes he was previously wearing on his hands. He did a quick work of shoving knives into holsters and putting his gun into a case. He looked over Clint, who was shuffling over the closet to find a duffel bag to put the knives.

"Throw me the clothes" he mumbles, not bending to get the bag yet. He turned, preparing himself to catch the bundle of clothes, instead he found himself face to face, so close, to Bucky that he startled a bit.

He gave him a smile, putting the clothes into a drawer and sliding past Clint to get the duffel bag, closing the wardrobe and giving him other smile as he walks back to his stuff.

They finished packing and Bucky helped Clint to get his shoes on before they got their stuff and walked out of the house, locking everything and walking through the small stone path over the woods that surrounded the safe house. First Bucky let Clint walk through the trees, but as soon as the terrain became more difficult, with more fallen logs and exposed roots he picked him up, and continued until they reached the clearing.

Natasha was waiting for them and Clint knew that they were a bit late, but he had forced Bucky to take a small break because super soldier and all, carrying a grown man is no easy task.

They piled into the quinjet and while Nat piloted, Bucky made him lay down on his -he used it so much it might be his after all- examination table. Clint knew that if Nat wanted she could leave the jet in autopilot and come back with them. But she stayed at the cabin, pointedly giving them space, and Clint could kinda understand it.

Yes, he thought that Bucky was attractive, a great guy overall, he would make someone really happy one day. But that was all. He respected the efficiency that Bucky had back in the Howling Commandos, even his work in HYDRA, he respected what Bucky was now, just some professional appreciation, not something to do with feelings, right? _Hell_ he didn't know. He bit back a groan and looked to the side.

Bucky had retreated a few feet away, grumbling how the quinjet had lots of useful tech, but didn't have a chair close to the table. Clint would had suggested jokingly that he could join him at the table, but he wasn't sure if the table would survive almost 300 pounds. Clint just extended his hand and made a pout.

"When you're done resting your muscles come here and make me company, old man" he called when he saw him rolls his shoulders

Bucky smiled up at him and nodded "I guess I'm stuck with you uh? You gonna put me through hell while I look out for you while you heal" he shakes his head, and Clint can see that it's a fond gesture

"Don't worry" he smiles, finally seeing what Nat saw "I'm sure I can make you come out singing" 

**Author's Note:**

> If someone likes to rp with this two dorks hit me up! I cant find anyone else who does ;-;


End file.
